Cold, Null, and Void
by Tasogare Ookami Konyo
Summary: The inquiries of an unaware Sora and a series of repeated encounters lead Mimiru to question her own motives regarding her love for Tsukasa. [Sora x Mimiru. Kind of.]
1. playing a little spy game

**Disclaimer**: I do not own .hack or any of the characters therein; etc.

_E__veryone is changing;   
There's no one left that's real  
So make up your own ending, and let me know just how you feel  
'Cause I am lost without you,  
I cannot live at all  
My whole world surrounds you;  
I stumble, and then I crawl  
_Blurry - Puddle of Mudd

Online relationships.

Mimiru dismissed the idea again and again. A screenshot of Tsukasa, Subaru, and herself sat neatly in a frame at the side of her flat-screen monitor; the glass was taped, as if the photograph had been dropped...punched...brutally smashed by a hammer. The latter, of course, was implausible, but the damage was, in the grand scheme of things, the same. 

Particularly on the left, where a blue-clad _angel_ had wrapped her arms lovingly around the Wavemaster's neck in a vice like grip, cracks streamed out like crystalline serpents from an infested ravine. Mimiru liked to call it the typical teenage "express anger on something inanimate" syndrome. (She could never exact whatever vengeance she could cook up in the more danger-prone recesses of her mind on Subaru--Mimiru was _not_ that kind of person.)

The Heavy Blade truly wasn't. Of all the things she was--scrawny, boisterous, friendly (nonetheless)--that list did not entail "aggressive" or "revenge-seeking". And Subaru was Tsukasa's Subaru; that was that.

And she had been reduced to allowing her clouded eyes linger on the pair sitting beneath a tree in the snow.

The field was a typical tundra wasteland: footprints or digitized blood marring the sheet like surface of the land, like sprinkles on an ice cream cone; an occasional stone ruin, each intricately-carved block either forming an inverted "U" structure or lying immobile and imbedded in the snow. Lucky for Mimiru, the pair had not strayed far from the spawning point, and so Mimiru lay in wait, ignoring the frigid stone boring into her back. She was atop the dungeon entrance, as the entirety of the cave was underground, and she often found herself wondering why the torches perched on either end of the mouth had never once gone out. 

(Why question the physics of a _game?_)

Only Subaru could make him--or, more accurately, _her--_laugh out of jovialness rather then the usual mocking chortle that the Heavy Blade was presented with ease. She wasn't even that _funny,_ per se. 

The Heavy Blade's tanned skin provided a sharp contrast to the black-and-white area, and so Mimiru was forced to remain hidden behind the pylons of the fortress roof. She would stalk the couple, but she could never bring herself to look at them, as it would summon a maelstrom of negative emotion.

Hate. (Circling thoughts. To travel in a circle is to tread the same path for as long as you wish, or as long as time allows.)

Curiosity and inquisitiveness--nature is as nature does, and Mimiru scrambled around to toss a glance behind her, bracing herself for whatever she might see. _They_ were laughing again; the angelic Heavy Axewoman had curled up to _him_ as a kitten would linger in the clutches of its owner. Mimiru felt ill at ease again; tears pricked at her eyes, but the arctic conditions had--

"Playing a little spy game, now, are we?" A perplexed but innocently unaware voice forced Mimiru to clamp her teeth onto her tongue in order not to scream. That action in itself was painful, and without looking, her left hand shot out blindly to pull down at the leg of the person who had so rudely interrupted her antics. "Whoop!" The source of the voice hunkered onto the floor, and Mimiru was instantly alerted as to her discoverer's identity.

"Shut up!" 

Mimiru instantly regretted it, as where there is oppression, there is resistance, and Sora exemplified that rule.

"_Mimiru-chan_," he crooned noisily, placing an extra emphasis on her name with an evil smile. "Who're you watching waaay down there?" His dark clothes and his bloody eyes ruined Mimiru's idea of camouflage--as in, pissed on it and kicked dirt on it simultaneously. His lanky body tilted forward so his half-slit eyes could enrapture themselves in whatever she had been looking at--

Colorful words accentuated her frustration, and with a strained cry, one steel-booted foot kicked itself at the back of his knee.

There was a reason Sora had selected Twin Blades as his specified class. These fighters, usually of the skinny variety, were gifted with grace that belonged wholly to a feline; Sora's languid personality fitted that of a jungle cat, at one minute dozing the nights and days away in the limbs of a tree. The next minute would be spent bounding around as if on steroids. 

Unfortunately, this was not one of the times Sora would be able to utilize his God-given nimbleness. However, Mimiru was able to discern that the snow enveloping the field was about six feet deep...

The couple beneath the tree were both alerted to the sound; apparently wishing for solitude, no matter how unapparent it may be, they gated out at the same time. Mimiru sighed, wondering if they had seen her--well, _that_ wouldn't matter. Tsukasa didn't even know she existed, after all!

The Heavy Blade steadied herself atop a pylon, and bounded off the top; accomplishing a hasty midair somersault, she landed on the snowy surface. Her crystalline eyes peered anxiously at the hole in the powder--well, the hole showed no signs of anyone clambering out of it. Perhaps he was recuperating--either from the nasty bruise that would form on his leg or from the fact that he was just kicked off a building. Mimiru contemplated gating out immediately, just to avoid some inevitable trouble.

Basically instantaneously, a flowers-and-sunshiny Twin Blade popped up about four inches from her face. "Tsk tsk, Mimiru-chan," he chided, wagging his index finger playfully. (His hands were dangerously close to her face; she hoped that the katars wouldn't go shooting out anytime soon.) "Spying on Tsukasa-kun and ickle Subaru."

Mimiru regained her composure and stepped backwards. Then she scoffed indignantly, sneering at the player-killer. "I was _not_ spying!" Her protest was adamant, but admittedly weak in nature.

Sora tapped his chin and stared at the sky. Snowy skies are hardly ever blue, and he quickly made the comparison between it and the girl's leering eyes. "Really?" he said, tone oily.

"Really." 

Mimiru's hand itched for the hilt of her gargantuan sword, prepared to make him chopped liver. Sora noticed this as well, and the corners of his thin lips curled sinisterly; his arms folded, and out of either brace shot a katar with a _*shink*._ There was a very ensnaring exchange of dark and displeased looks--Mimiru--and the coy, almost seductive expression that relayed a challenge--Sora--before Mimiru, slowly but surely, began to extract her blade from its bindings on her back.

"Get out of here," Mimiru said, a hint of threat and an attempt to be imposing in her voice. Sora said nothing, but his eyebrow quirked slightly. The contrasting end of her personality did not like this silence. (Sora knew how to push people's buttons.) "Wipe that stupid look off your face! I--"

"Talk, talk, talk. Talk is cheap, Mimiru-chan," he said smoothly, bowing mockingly. The nickname seemed to irritate her, but he seemed not to notice. Knowing--or not knowing--Sora, he probably did, but probably didn't care long enough to comment. In another fluid motion, he was upright, and in another, he was standing upside-down--the term "handstand" would be slightly more on the mark. He pushed off of his hands, and after an impressive combo of fancy twirls and such in the air, he landed somewhere behind her. Mimiru did not hesitate before spinning around, fists clenched at her sides. He spoke again with a lopsided grin:

"Has the terrific trio been reduced to a dynamic duo?" 

Mimiru's breath caught in her throat, and her sneer twisted into a snarl, perhaps more feral than before. "I don't know _what_ you're talking about," she said, tone as bitter as the whistling wind. "Who told you such a stupid thing!?" 

Sora plopped down on the snow, ignoring the fact that it splattered messily onto his pants. (Mimiru reflected that it was likely Sora's character, although taller, probably weighed a lot less then hers did. Muscle mass, she decided.) "Well, if you don't know what I'm talking about, then it doesn't really matter, does it?" he asked flatly. 

Mimiru glowered, and she too sat down; chills raced up and down her bare legs, but she ignored them. "Like I care," she mumbled--which wasn't quite the ideal response, and it did seem somewhat irrelevant. "And why do _you_ care about Tsukasa or me?" A pause, and then as an afterthought, "Or Subaru, for that matter." Weariness. She was numb from the waist down, and the fact that she wore large sheets of metal on either side of her waist and _not_ on her torso was not helping.

"Simple. I don't." Sora's tone was bright again, as was his smile--which could be recognized as either destructive or delightfully playful. "So, _Mimiru-chan..._" Mimiru frowned again. "What _are_--what were you doing here, of all places, where, coincidentally, Subaru and Tsukasa were as well?"

"Oh, not this again," she mumbled hopelessly, plunging one arm into the snow to wrap around her knees. Her other hand traced mindless patterns into the powder. "I wasn't spying on them," she echoed.

"You're an awful liar, my dear. Did ickle Tsukasa-kun make you cry?" 

That caught Mimiru's attention. The Heavy Blade lost her recently-regained balance and yanked her arm out of the snow, which shoved her legs backwards, which sent her sprawling against the ground face-up. (Not the most graceful gesture in her life.) She groaned, having landed on something pointed--a small, lonesome rock, which shouldn't quite _be_ in this field--and ignored what hyena-like laughter would follow. But silence followed. "I wasn't crying," she managed, not bothering to sit up again. "I don't cry."

Mimiru blinked and closed her eyes, knowing what would happen if she opened them quickly. Instead, she lifted one eyelid lazily, and as expected, Sora was hunched over her splayed form; fiery crimson eyes inspected her face. "A-ha!" he cried triumphantly. One hand slowly moved towards her face.

"What!? Don't touch me! Your blades are gonna shoot out and--oh my GAWD, get the hell away from me!" After a minute or two of nonsensical wailing that involved several elaborate descriptions of what would happen if a katar was to fly into her head, Mimiru stopped yelling, blinked, and sat up. "Oh. I'm not dead," she stated, somewhat blandly. Her tone beckoned a challenge, one he seemed not to acknowledge.

"Brilliant deduction. I suppose now you're going to tell me the color of the sky in the spring," Sora mumbled, inspecting something on his bare finger. "You were crying," he concluded finally, shaking whatever the object was off his finger. 

"I don't cry," she protested to the thick powder, scooping some on her hands and watching the flakes (like dandruff) slip between her slender fingers like sand in an hourglass. "And why would I cry over--over _Subaru_ and _Tsukasa_? I'm not _jealous,_ if that's what you're thinking," she added quickly, making sure to thoroughly explain as if writing an essay on the topic.

"The dynamic duo is more boring then ever," the lanky player half-agreed. "There are always fish in the sea." The homicidal Twin Blade gracefully leapt to his feet with his usual expression, teeth slightly pointed; all that was missing was the lolling tongue and he really would have seemed wolfish in nature. "This was a waste of my time," he stated in a bored tone. "I'm going to bed soon. I think I'll kill you tomorrow."

"Um..."

Sora bent downward to face her, showing no apparent signs of stumbling as his body curved accommodatingly. "Or maybe I won't," he breathed, the daunting warmth prompting a small shiver from Mimiru. (Sora enjoyed striking fear into others. Players in the Theta server knew.)

He took about four seconds to examine her features: clouded eyes shrouded in anticipation and fear, eyebrows raised almost to hairline--this expression was familiar. But once he got past that, the Heavy Blade was cute. Subaru had remarkable fairness, the type one would expect from a noble princess (or rich snob), and BT was more of the latter then the former--though she had her own type of untouchable, antisocial radiance.

And unlike either of those, Mimiru was outgoing_._ The World players and hardcore role-players always found it necessary to fabricate themselves in secrecy, warding others off; much to their distaste, Sora (and many others, he was sure) did not pursue what limited mystery and wonder they had to offer. 

_He_ liked killing, and that was that.

The katars jutted out from the gears on his wrists: he had allowed himself to linger for far too long, and using the member address collected from a corpse, Sora immediately sensed one of his many antsy targets had logged on...and besides, he never let himself talk a lot unless it was for the sheer purpose of irritating some poor soul. (He had accomplished this goal a while ago, but he ventured forth nonetheless. Typical Sora.)

"Or maybe I won't," he said again, rearing back one hand for a quick guillotine slice. His eyes glimmered and his message was clear and aforementioned: _Talk is cheap. This one was, too._ And the same hand plunged forth, prepared to cleave into a graphical piece of flesh and a graphical artery and a graphical collarbone. 

His hand was caught before the dagger could make contact. Mimiru was not as high a level as Sora, but managed to steady her grasp, the other hand at the ready.

Sora blinked, then winked tactlessly. "Touché." But before he could complete the clean gesture with his other hand, Mimiru's palm flew into his face with a _thwack_. It wasn't a slap, per se; it was more of a shove. Directed at the face. Sora plopped onto the snow, mutedly nursing the print on the space between his forehead and his pointed nose. "Oww," he said disdainfully, obviously not that harmed but obviously not that pleased. 

He wanted to leave. _Now._ But he couldn't. Similar events tended to occur in the presence of BT or Crim, and he would not back out of a quarrel with another player.

"I'm leaving," Mimiru declared, thrusting her blade into the air and heaving it onto her shoulder. "Good _bye_."

She was gone, and Sora frowned slightly, finger tracing the slight mark on his face. And then and there, he decided that another encounter was necessary--perhaps to upstage her, or harass her some more. Sora vanished as well, leaving behind a couple of full-body trails on the ground and some footprints.

Ah, what fun!

**A/N**: So, what do you think? This fanfic will consist mainly of little quarrels between Mimiru/Sora, and light fluff in-between. YAY!


	2. you're going to push me

**Disclaimer**: I do not own .hack, or the songs I use in this piece.

_Fate fell short this time,  
Your smile fades in the summer...  
Place your hand in mine;  
I'll leave when I wanna  
_Feeling This - Blink 182

In towns, violence was considered a no-no. Considering her rendezvous with a certain peculiar murderer yesterday, Mimiru wouldn't take many chances for a few weeks. Consulting her member address list and a few other menus, she deducted that Tsukasa and/or Subaru had not logged on yet. And so she was atop the skyscraper roof of the Elf's Haven in Mac Anu, where the buildings were rectangular and solace was offered by scaling the walls near the Chaos Gate.

The sky traversed onward overhead, as if on some westward conquest, beckoning the ball of a sun to follow. It would not oblige for a few more hours.

Mimiru decided the aqueducts below were far too riotous for her; the running streams tinkled into unseen vents. Players avoided the makeshift rivers, not out of fear or anything of the sort, but rather out of disinterest--dismissing all but the essentials. (Unobservant...) Her heart was misplaced today, and she found breathing a bit of a chore. 

Why and when did the cardiovascular organ become related to matters that should be confined strictly to the mind? Faerie tales and love-struck ninnies often made overzealous claims of breaking hearts or weighing them or freezing them, and other unconventional things like that.

She pivoted and paced about like a caged and impatient animal. She had saved her game earlier, as the nagging shadow of a threat lingered in the corridors of her mind--yes, knowing Sora, he would hunt her. (How unappealing.)

She bit her lip, thoughts straying to a violet-eyed fatale, and then with it, the blue-haired "angel" that always accompanied her.

"Dammit!" Mimiru swore, clutching her temple and crouching on the ground. "What the hell is wrong with me!?" 

"Took the words right out of my mouth," a caustic voice sang behind her, but Mimiru could identify to whom it belonged without so much as a second glance. She allowed her fingers to slip gingerly off the sides of her face, and her nails--slightly long--traced infinitesimal patterns on the ground beneath her. It was a habit she had picked up as a child. "Of course, not in a method I'd opt for," Sora murmured silkily, "but amusing nonetheless. What are you doing?"

(Sora would later find himself asking her those four words close to every day... A symbolic sequence. Progressive in mentality, but he is still a boy.)

(And even with that, she is still a girl.)

"You can't kill me here," Mimiru murmured noncommittally, cherubic eyes gleaming with moisture. "You can wait 'till I get bored. I saved my game," she added defensively, scuttling a little farther away from him. As he did yesterday, the Twin Blade, body as skeletal and starved-looking as ever, plopped down onto the ground, not looking as malicious--but not as amiable. "Why are you following me? You know I don't like you at all," she said snidely.

"I'm here because..." Sora tapped his narrow chin with one finger, searching for a way to put it in words suitable for his magical persona. Ecstatic upon finding one, he clasped his hands together with an Evil Smile™. "'Oh, woe is me! Two girls are in hot pursuit of me, the almighty Tsukasa-kun! And since I am dating the crippled wheelchair girl, I must ask the even almightier Sora-sama to assist me in these dealings!'" Immediately, the euphoric expression fell from his face and was replaced by a spiritless narrowing of the eyes.

Mimiru subdued her smile, and the obnoxious giggle that would come consequentially upon learning Subaru was "crippled wheelchair girl". "Tsukasa...what?"

(She thought Tsukasa cared.)

"Actually, I just made that up." Mimiru's exuberance diminished, as indicated by the vanishing sparkle in her heather eyes. Her eyes strayed from Sora's--not as if they would have abided eye contact for long; they shifted to the delicate mold-collecting planks beneath her sitting form. The Twin Blade smiled secretively. Sora considered himself a puppeteer of sorts, dabbling in the art of manipulation--and Mimiru, coupled with her courtesy and intensified sense of mercy, was a marionette. 

Mimiru was quiet for a moment. Then, voice steadfast and well-maintained, she mumbled something along the lines of, "That was mean..."

"I know." He felt no pity; his thin lips curl into a smirk, and the Twin Blade relaxed, straightening his legs and lying down on the floor. He flailed one hand in the air with much twirling of the fingers, beckoning Mimiru to do the same; she obliged, but not before placing a rather sizable distance between him and her.

"How long are you going to be hanging around me?" Mimiru asked offhandedly, lifting one arm from the floor to see how much of the sky she could seize.

"Most people would be honored to have a person such as myself in their presence, Mimiru-chan," Sora drawled suavely. His fingertips brushed strands of dark green from his eyes; upon receiving a clearer view of the sun, he shut them. He wasn't the type to relish bright lights, natural or no. "You're part of the minority." He examined his nails. 

"Really," she replied, unable to think up a clever retort. "Don't you have energy to burn off? I want to be alone," she pleaded. "Go kill newbies or whatever. I need to be able to think to myself!"

Her voice had risen to a shrill tone unbeknownst to herself, and Sora cupped his ear with one hand. "What? Free country. Or root town. Whatever." A bemused smile followed. He did so love this game that he played...

That she hated.

"Look, I--"

"Is there a problem?" he half-snapped abrasively, allowing his hands to slide from their position on the back of his head to his sides. He looked like a rag doll if seen from a bird's-eye view: limp, and lifeless. No; lifeless was an erroneous term to describe Sora. If his body wasn't sharp and quick to take action, his tongue was. Lifeless was not a word in Sora's mental dictionary. As if proving it to himself, he elevated his legs, his body forming a nearly flawless right angle; Sora sprang to his feet. "Tada!"

When she didn't applaud him on his amazing accomplishment, Sora only smirked and walked to the edge of the building. The distance between the Elf's Haven tavern and item depository seemed insanely close...The faint tapping of metal against wood alerted him to Mimiru's presence somewhere behind him. "If you're going to push me, go ahead and do it." Incandescent eyes dared her to shove him.

With a grin baleful enough to match Sora's trademarked one, Mimiru was only too happy to gratify his challenge. She propelled her palms into Sora's back. 

And he fell.

Gravity is, if anything, stronger in The World--perhaps it's the fact that all characters are physically adept, and there must be some compensation. The gaunt Twin Blade with his spindly arms and legs dropped like a fly that had made a very brutal impact with a windshield. He showed no signs of distress. Players' heads suddenly shot up, very aware of a black-clad presence that was about to be a bloody mass of _dead_ on the ground--

Despite anyone's hopes or despairs, Sora landed, knees bent and hands outstretched, as if welcoming a smaller presence--a puppy or similar--into his arms. It was not a klutzy fall, God forbid; if one had obscenely good vision, or had some sort of play-by-play installed in their goggles, Sora had, in midair, twisted himself about in a very catlike way, applying little weight on his ankles before collision with the stone-brick path. (Remarkable control.) And then, in a whirling dervish of seconds after he touched down on the ground, he vaulted into the air again.

(He was going to try to make it onto the roof of the building across the Elf's Haven--the potions shop.)

The fashion in which he jumped appeared to be an ode to how comic book heroes or the occasional manga character would fly, often with a billowing cape following--arms fastened to sides, body straight as an arrow. 

Sora was not going to make it.

His arms, gangling with lean muscle mass, shot from his sides. His fingers curled desperately around the roof's edge, and there he dangled, players below staring above in a mix of amazement and wonder. ("What the hell is he doing!?"/"He's really strong..."/"Damn, that is cool!"/"What a showoff...") Other people decided to mind their own business. That was wise, and yet uneventful. 

The Twin Blade assumed an apathetic look as he flew into the air again, applying force to his fingertips; like a ballerina performing a final effervescent twirl-and-leap, he landed, knees sinking to absorb the impact, on the roof of the potion shop. 

Roaring applause rippled over Mac Anu, as did appreciative whistles and whoops. Ah, he did so love the appreciation of his many talents...

A thought flickered in his mind, the metaphorical imitation of a light bulb being switched on. He spun around to face Elf's Haven, a gleeful expression crossing his face. "Mimiruuuuuu~?" Sora sang sweetly into the streets. The Heavy Blade on the roof blinked. Sora's hawkish vision could spot the faintest hint of a smile on her lips; Mimiru allowed herself a soft chuckle at his antics. _Like a kid._ He paused before lifting one arm up in an inviting wave.

"Need help?"

Mimiru reflected the possible consequences of attempting the jump herself before turning a faint shade of pink. "Who said I wanted to join you?" she shot back, though unable to fight the gentle arc of her lips. Sora flashed her his patented Evil Smile™ before clearing the distance with another jump. Her eyebrows tilted downward slightly in repugnance--an expression the Twin Blade was becoming familiar with very fast. "You could've just done that. Showoff."

He shrugged in response and maneuvered behind her nimbly. "Ready?" 

"Why are you hanging around me?" Mimiru asked again as a pair of gloved hands wrapped around her firm stomach. Sora inched backwards, glancing over his shoulder on occasion to ensure that he wouldn't go rolling off the side of the building. He didn't answer; unlike their meeting back at the fields of pristine ice, his breath was no longer warm, but rather wintry. "Is Tsukasa really worried about me?" A hint of hope.

The Twin Blade did not dignify that question with an answer, expression hardening--but Mimiru couldn't see it. She focused on struggling instead, having recently noted where Sora was planning to dump her.

He grinned again, eyes flickering with malice. "Hold on tight."

He sailed into the air, pressing the tanned Heavy Blade against him and ignoring her vivid language. 

And Mimiru plunged head-first into the water.

Mimiru was the first and only to surface. (You can't quite _drown_ in The World, but the rivers in Mac Anu were probably the only and most fun way of dying in a root town.) Sora sat on the pavement, the lanky fighter dry as a bone in a skeleton and looking happier then most clams could hope to be. A cheesy smile was grafted on his usually snide expression, and he drummed his fingers on the ground to a rhythm playing only in his mind. The Heavy Blade blinked repeatedly, hovering in the open-air aqueduct, and feeling as close to wet as her goggles could elicit in all her soaked digital glory. Then she leered at him, eyes glowering a challenge. _Little bastard--_

"Tsukasa-kun and the blue haired lady are in Chosen Hopeless Sunny Demon. Why don't you go stalk them?" he said airily, waving one arm in the air. But Mimiru glared some more and scoffed. 

"Like I care."

"Whatever you say~" And with a tilde flourish ending his statement, the Twin Blade disappeared; adamant to prove that she was not any kind of stalker, Mimiru scoffed again and headed to the Chaos Gate. She needed to level up...or..._something._


	3. that's it?

**Author's Notes**: Updates on a regular basis now. The plot thickens. Whoo! I'm getting fanfiction ideas by the bloody _second_. Some are in progress, but for now, I want to finish this and Guardian Angel first. They are, in a way, companion fics, exploring unorthodox "pairings—if you can call them that. Standard disclaimers apply.

The writing quality of this chapter is a tad less poetic than others. Don't worry; this is just pushing past writer's block… And yes, I know you all must be shocked and appalled that Sora "kills" Subaru. No offense to Subaru fans—none intended at all. Just a means of plot advancement. Now, when I kill Terajima… Heheh… Err, oops.

Your skin 

_Oh yeah, your skin and your bones_

_Turn into something beautiful_

_D'you know for you, I bleed myself dry_

_For you I bleed myself dry_

Coldplay – Yellow

_Smile and nod gently. Pretend you're listening._

Subaru was, after all, a very nice girl when Mimiru set aside her infatuation with the faithless Wavemaster. As mentioned _over_ and _over_, Subaru had an intangibly cherubic disposition; she was soft-spoken and subdued, and her pretense hid unwavering resolution. And really, who was Mimiru to refuse if given the opportunity to go a-dungeon raiding with the former co-founder of the Scarlet Knights? She certainly didn't want to appear rude, but some darker part of her wished Tsukasa would notice how welcoming and inviting she was to his beloved Subaru. Maybe Subaru would put a good word in.

_As if._

It was one of _those_ dungeons; the ones that resembled some beluga whale's stomach lining, and where characters are afraid to step too heavily because of the grotesque squishing sound (followed by the suspicious pool of plasma or saliva that would gather at their heels. Twin Blades and Wavemasters, with their pansy shoes, best not enter.)

"Mimiru-san? Are you listening…?" came the tentative voice from somewhere behind. Mimiru shot up from her reverie—and luckily avoided running into the fleshy pink wall.

"Huh?" she said rather lamely. "Oops. Heh. Guess I kind of…um…" The Heavy Blade fumbled about in her mental list of excuses. Yet she was secretly grateful when the Heavy Axewoman simply smiled—not the widest of grins, mind you, but a knowing smile nonetheless. "Sorry," she said sheepishly.

"No, no, it's alright." Subaru nodded and turned the corner, slowing her pace so as to let Mimiru catch up. "I understand if you're upset," the Axewoman said quietly.

"_Upset? _Me? Over what, and why?" _I hate you._ "I'm never upset," Mimiru stated indignantly. "Nope; I'm just—"

Subaru smiled again—the same dratted, all-knowing smile. And a pained look flashed in her brownish eyes, but she simply promenaded along, the little wings plastered above her shoulders twitching every now and then, netting dust particles and other things. Mimiru frowned as she was left to follow Miss Holier-Than-Thou, propping her sword on her shoulder and huffing quietly.

"Mimiru-san, how much do you like Tsukasa-chan?" Subaru asked, soft voice resonating throughout the dungeon hall. It shouldn't have, considering the sordid structure of the walls—Mimiru was going to comment until the question made its impact. She spluttered and sputtered in her defense, trying her very best to act shocked and appalled—the former was simple to accomplish, but she couldn't fight the flush that came onto her face. The Heavy Axewoman didn't look. "It's alright," she murmured, glancing around for Magic Portals.

"I don't _like_ Tsukasa!" Mimiru exclaimed, flinging her arms in the air. "He's been nothing b-but a jerk to me ever since I met him!" She paused. "Her."

"You don't like Tsukasa," the girl with her sheet-white skin said evenly.

"I don't like Tsukasa," Mimiru said firmly.

Subaru's head craned about. Her gentle expression faded, and was replaced with something less communicative. Mimiru blanched—it was hard not to. Among the kindest, most mild-mannered players of The World was nearly _leering_ at her. Anyone would be disturbed. "You don't have to lie to me." It was an almost accusing tone. Mimiru opened her mouth, aiming to protest that she spoke the truth and nothing more; the Axewoman shook her head slowly, walking through yet another door.

"Why do you ask?"

Subaru paused, ensuring that Mimiru would be unable to discern any emotion from her posture. "Because…" She trailed off; probably hoping the answer would appear as an epiphany, but the Heavy Blade made a sound in her throat that prompted the Heavy Axewoman to continue. "You're her best friend," she said slowly. "And…"

There was a short fluttering in Mimiru's heart, accompanied by a sinking sensation. "So just 'cause I'm her friend means I like her."

"…No. No, not—"

"Just because I was the first one to even try and help," she said, fighting to keep the shakiness out of her voice. "Just because I gave a damn, and…and just because I did everything I could… Just because I would've given anything for Tsukasa to actually care about someone other than herself…and _you_—so that means I like her, huh?

"Fine. Fine. Whatever definition of 'like' or 'love' you're going by… Not my problem."

Mimiru closed her eyes and tilted her head backwards as she walked. And then she opened them again, their usual silvery warmth gone and replaced by a steely flicker.

"Not my problem."

"Do you like him?" Subaru persisted. _Annoying._ But then again, facing off against threats outside of her precious Knights and without the protection of Krim had undoubtedly made her bolder.

Mimiru was defeated, and lost her resolution as quickly as it had come.

"I like him."

No one spoke for the next few minutes. The area seemed fairly threadbare of portals; meaning that the next floor would be packed or they were nearing the statue…or…eh. Maybe Subaru didn't know what to say, either. All Mimiru knew was that she was between a rock and a hard place, and she'd give anything to be audacious enough to use the Sprite Ocarina dangling from her neck.

She quickly learned that she wouldn't have to.

A faint humming noise drifted within earshot. It was almost tuneless, usually reverting to a higher or lower note sporadically and then returning to its monotonous state. It was hard to describe such a thing: it displayed little, if any emotion. But the subtle _feel_ of it all gave it away immediately, and Mimiru scolded herself for feeling grateful as none other than friendly neighborhood Sora turned the corner and entered the duo's line of vision, hands folded behind his head and a cocky smile gracing his tapered face.

Mimiru summoned her acting skills and forced a disgusted look, edging away from his predicted path. "Subaru, watch out," she called to the rigid back of the Axewoman, addled with two miniature wings. Although her back was to Mimiru, the Heavy Blade could sense Subaru's gaze following Sora as he went on his merry way.

Mimiru flashed Sora a wink and a secret (but nonetheless weary) smile. He quirked a brow and began scrutinizing her carefully, before shrugging dismissively and walking past her altogether. She blinked, sending him a warning glare—_why aren't you helping me!?_ She tried to "telepathically" relay to him how much torture this was. It didn't seem to work—the Player Killer simply meandered by…

"Is that it?" she spluttered, attempting to trigger a confrontation of sorts. _That_ got Sora to stop in his tracks and glance nonchalantly over his shoulder. He didn't speak. Mimiru smirked. This was too perfectly planned-out.

Well, no. It wasn't thought out much at all. No realization dawned on his face. "You're just gonna walk away, huh?" Mimiru said with a harrumph. "I thought so," she snorted, propping her sword on her shoulder. "Did you already take the treasure? When? If it doesn't respawn when I—"

Sora strode up to her, conduct unreadable and pace brisk; his arms were limp at his sides, and the blades had been retracted. It was then Mimiru realized how much he towered over her, despite his childish mannerisms; his dark hair drooped loosely over his face, shielding parts of his disconcerting eyes and giving the impression that he was tired and his head was wilting faintly. It was probably because Mimiru was at least a head shorter, though.

The proximity was making Mimiru nervous. Subaru swiveled around, clutch tightening on the Fate Encounter [1] and fear now apparent; Sora eyed the tanned girl critically, tight-lipped and not a happy camper.

One blade shot out from the brace on his left hand, and Mimiru "eep"ed.

But, in an instant, the Twin Blade was behind Subaru and the left-hand Last Betrayal was wedged in the small space between the Axewoman's mini wings. Before she fell, Mimiru hastily disbanded her party and was spared a bewildered, almost betrayed glance from Subaru before she vanished. Mimiru gulped—this would take some explaining…

The Heavy Blade mustered some more courage and tapped Sora on the shoulder. "Was it really necessary to _kill_ her? …I mean, we could've just made up some bull about how…I dunno, but…" She fidgeted, and suddenly felt very small when Sora did not respond for several seconds. "Eh, Sora? You alright?"

(He wasn't all right, thank you very much!)

"Uh…thanks, I guess," she said at last, unsure. She peered at him for a bit more before twisting around him and fingering the Ocarina around her neck. "Thanks…" Mimiru repeated, eyes downcast. "I guess I'll see you around…?"

A gloved hand clamped hard around her wrist, forcefully relinquishing her grip on the device. Mimiru gulped. _Oh shit._

"That's it?" Sora inquired innocently.

Mimiru resisted the instinct to pull her arm away. "What's it?" she responded, raising an eyebrow.

As soon as the Heavy Blade received a party invitation from Subaru, her first instinct was to log off. Her second was to ask whether or not Tsukasa was going to be there. She asked, and Subaru responded with a firm no—that it would be just them, "getting to know one another". The keywords were sent, and it didn't look like Mimiru was going to find a way out of this particular arrangement. She was fairly certain that she had no intention of "getting to know" Subaru…

She had scanned her member address list frantically before reluctantly consulting Sora for help. Her message was simple: Cut this rendezvous short. There were also bunches of pleads and apologies for former mix-ups tacked onto the end of the Flash Mail, but that was beside the point.

How dumb she was, not to expect that Sora would want something in return.

"Ah…uh…you want payment? Did you already collect that stuff from the Gott Statue?" Mimiru chuckled nervously, finally managing to wrench herself out and away. "Uh…I'll get some rare things delivered to you later…" She bit her lip—_now_ she sounded positively preposterous. Like a usually candid person purchasing wares for a much cheaper price than their original worth, and _knowing_ it. She apologized hastily and patted the Twin Blade on the shoulder, serenely unaware of the thoughts running through that head of his, and curled her fingers around the ocarina again.

Sora folded his arms and began tapping his foot, leer still terribly acidic. Apparently, he didn't understand the effects of "eye contact"—or he knew them perfectly and was exploiting them. He did flaunt his cunning at times, but this was ridiculous, and she lost her patience. "Okay, okay," she said at last, flailing her arms in a sign of defeat. "What do you want? Tell me…I'll get it to you tomorrow…"

Still no response.

Mimiru frowned slightly, and shrugged. (Not her loss.) "Well, as soon as you figure out what you want in return, e-mail me or something, okay? I…I gotta go. Thanks…thanks. I just…" And with a low, morose tune from the Sprite Ocarina, she disappeared in a flurry of rings.

Tsukasa entered the corridor, stunned and looking as if he had been punched in the gut.

"So…" the pale Wavemaster stuttered, dust-colored robes sweeping across the pulsating floor. "This is what you brought me here to see?" Sora turned around, slowly and deliberately, allowing the information to sink in. He glared at Tsukasa, too. "This is what…" Tsukasa swallowed, his grip on the stem of the Ludicrous trembling slightly. The Twin Blade had, after receiving Mimiru's cry for help, consulted Tsukasa. Why? Sora was…cunning. That was it.

(The look on Mimiru's face during their past two meetings… Sickening. Absolutely.)

Sora folded his arms again, watching the Wavemaster lower his head, shoulders quivering slightly. Maybe he was crying. But he couldn't give less of a damn. As Mimiru would say, serves him right…

Mimiru.

Sora thrust out his left hand, and in it materialized a Sprite Ocarina of his own. A flat tone, and he left, leaving Tsukasa to dwell on the pain he had triggered—through naïve acts. Pain is pain. Presumably, he was going to find Mimiru—but what then? He had no comfort to offer, and Sora was definitely not the type who handed out shoulders to cry on. But maybe he could still utilize some of his older tactics. The ones that used to make BT, at the very least, smirk in mild amusement.

To make Mimiru smile, at least.

**to be continued**

[1] The weapon names are taken from QUARANTINE—the weapons Subaru, Tsukasa, and Sora have when they join your party.

This chapter is the only one with a TBC tacked on. The other chapters I write can probably stand alone.


	4. hey, i'm rhyming

**Author's Notes**: OMG WTF LOL! [Ahem] Hey kids! Say hello to your best friend, "another chapter"! Love it! Worship it! I'm a bit of a spaz. This chapter is chockfull of—you guessed it—Sora and Mimiru fluff. And for a limited time only, available only to S/M fans, WAFF all around!

The last chapter was a bit unclear, and it makes this seem like a bad follow-up. So reread chapter 3 again—it's been edited quite a bit.

 [SO FULL OF ANGST!]

A little short, but it gets the job done.

_Love took me by the hand_

_Love took me by surprise_

_Love lead me to you_

Love opened up my eyes 

Drop In the Ocean – Michelle Branch

Sora was not at all surprised or shocked to hear muted sniffles and curses as he ascended the staircase to the rooftop of the Elf's Haven—one of the more logical decisions he had made. Jumping would startle her—it would have been like ambushing a caged animal. (Normally, Sora the Nuisance had little against ambushing caged animals. Today's scenario had a different sort of impact on him.) And, even as his feet trudged up the cold, stone-crusted stairwell, he made an effort to be as silent as humanly possible—which was actually quite difficult. The hollowness of the well made echoless climbing a challenge.

"Dammit… Damn this whole thing…"

Another sniffle. He did not falter in his steps, though he commanded his ears to be attentive. They perked, as a feline's fuzz-riddled ears do when netting distinct sounds.

At first, when he bid Tsukasa to enter the dungeon room from which Mimiru had escaped and Subaru had been forcefully ejected, he thought Tsukasa's reaction was that of sheer stupidity, as in not being able to discern the tidbits of conversation. But then, as the Wavemaster's shoulders sank, Sora knew that he had read into it well. Better than he'd hoped.

Unfortunately, Subaru's innocent inquiries had pushed Mimiru to the brink.

And Sora knew that she knew that he would show up sometime. The intent of this visit was unclear, even to him.

"Damn Subaru."

A pause, a sniffle, and a loud thud indicated she had probably smashed her fist on the floor of the rooftop.  He continued to ascend until he was faced with light, and then the faint outline of Mimiru's curled-up, miserable form.

"Damn everything—"

"Now, now," he said airily, announcing his presence as he toddled out of the corridor, hands folded behind his head. "Damning isn't nice, you know. And on the same note, neither are vulgarities."

_…_

"Go away."

"No."

"…_Please_ go away?"

"No"

"…Pretty please?"

It became obscenely clear that Mimiru did not wish to be seen in her momentary state of weakness. She turned away from him, still hugging her knees and hiccupping and sniveling. Her armor grated lightly against the bricks, sparking faintly. Sora kept an even control over his facial expression. Even he, a seasoned warrior and a jester-y character, found the entire situation to be…_pathetic_…and all the while worthy of the great Sora-sama's sympathies. He sighed inwardly, making a note to kill her later. He was losing his grasp on his insanity.

He vaulted in the air, propelling himself flawlessly before landing in a crouching position next to Mimiru, knees bent in a rather catlike position to absorb what little impact there was.

"Don't look at me," the Heavy Blade ordered, inching away from the poof-pants Twin Blade. She inhaled, as if it was a difficult task—dry sobs wracked her thin frame, and had also done little to keep her voice at an even pitch. "I look pathetic. I _feel_ pathetic. And I don't cry. Leave me the hell alone." She thrust out one hand to shove him back a little. Much to her dismay, he didn't budge. He didn't even flinch. "Dammit, Sora," she cursed him, moving away. "I'm tired and hungry… I really want to log out, but nobody's home and I'll be bored… I wanna talk to somebody, but Bear isn't online…hell, neither is BT…"

"Don't you get tired of complaining?" he asked dryly, laying down and propping himself up on his elbows. Mimiru's back tensed.

"What do you think!?" she snapped, clearly affronted. Sora raised an eyebrow, obviously not expecting his offhanded comment to trigger a vehement response. Her fingers swiped at the spots beneath her eyes again, smearing her tanned face with drying tears. "I-if I could get a hold of these _feelings,_ then I _would,_ okay!? I didn't _ask_ for this!"

Sora stared at the sky, suspended in the lighter hour before dusk. The sky was only slightly orange; he had read on the BBS (right above a topic lamenting on some of his homicidal handiwork) that the ageless Root Towns would soon experience the variations of night and day.

It kind of sucked, in his opinion. But he couldn't very well change the decision of the programmers.

He became distinctly aware that she had continued.

"I never _wanted_ to love Tsukasa in the first place!" she belted out, smashing her fist against the ceiling again. The collision vibrated in the foundation of the rooftop floor.

He turned to look at her. She didn't notice, vocalizing her torment to the reeling skies.  He snorted, shifting his weight to his elbows. "You're quite the slave to your emotions," Sora told her, tilting his head backwards and allowing strands of green to lilt over his shoulders and sweep the eroded roof. "Girls have a knack for that, don't they?"

Mimiru drew in another fluctuant breath and swallowed thereafter. And she sniffled for what must've been the twentieth time. "Would you feel better if I blamed it on my hormones?" she shot back. She then scoffed, rolling away from him again.  "Ah, why am I talking to you…what do _you_ know… I'm going. I have some _complaining_ to do."

She stood, rather wobbly on her twiggy legs. Before she could make her grand angry exit, Sora's hand shot out and yanked her ankle back. Naturally, a level 46 Heavy Blade has little, if anything, against a level 90 Twin Blade with impeccable reflexes. Her leg gave out, and she toppled to the ground with a high-pitched yelp that prompted some of the citizens of the Aqua Capital to look up quizzically.

She sat on the floor, rubbing her throbbing rear upon which she had fallen. "That hurt," she whined.  

"You scream loudly. Actually, it would've been better if you hadn't screamed at all. Stupid is as stupid does."

"Thanks," Mimiru said apathetically. "Sora, I mean it. I'm going. It's been…less than fun."

"Not even going to stay and chat? I thought you had more etiquette than _that_," he crooned. "Hey, I'm rhyming. I've got great timing. I—"

"O-_kay_, that's enough outta you, Shakespeare," Mimiru cut in with a sharp gesture of her hand. "I think Bear will log on soon," she murmured, more to herself than Sora. "I need to talk to him."

"About Tsukasa-kun?"

A weak smile. "Who else?"

"How 'bout you talk now?" he supplied.

"Huh?"

"Better sooner than later, am I correct?"

"Maybe," she confessed, drawing her knees to her chest again and glancing out of him out of the corner of her eye. The wetness had faded somewhat, leaving a tired, smudgy look. "But I wouldn't… I mean… Why _you?_ I…I mean, no offense, Sora, but you're…not the kind of person I'm really going to talk to about my problems." The Heavy Blade appeared faintly apologetic, but her lack of remorse for the comment simply reinforced the idea that she didn't care much for him. A shame, too; Tsukasa wasn't the _only_ true-blue enigma in The World.

Instead of voicing his disesteem, he merely shrugged, bobbing his shoulders. "I'm here," he said so unceremoniously, he appeared to be telling her what color the sky was at lunchtime (sans rain or snow or sleet or hail). "So talk."

He was greeted with silence, and he turned to look at her.

"You tell me to talk," she said finally with a disheartened smile, "and I don't know what to say. You tell me not to complain, I complain." A now friendlier (but still rather solemn) Mimiru locked eyes with him. "I'm hopeless, aren't I?"

"Quite."

"Rhetorical question, Sora."

"Ah. Well, in that case, not at all. I can see it now. You've got a bright and glorious future ahead of you."

"That was sarcasm, wasn't it?"

"Is this the face of someone who would lie to you?"

"Hell yes."

"Now that's untrusting. I'm hurt, Mimiru-chan."

"You're pathetic."

"But charming."

"Manipulative."

"Clever."

"Arrogant."

"Rightfully so."

She threw her arms in the air, exasperated. "You're hopeless!"

"Quite," he countered at last with a cheeky smile.

Her gaze sifted through the adequately indecipherable lights in his eyes, and it held for a few breathless seconds, before she burst into laughter, all traces of her depression gradually leaving. The laughter subsided after a short while, and she rocked back and forth in her sitting position, Sora lying lazily beside her, withdrawn to his shrewd thoughts once more.

After a substantial moment of silence, the Heavy Blade, with a newfound burst of adrenaline, retracted her legs and then sprang to her feet. "That really was fun," Mimiru conceded, cracking her knuckles and stretching her slim back.

Sora nodded absently, standing up slowly and deliberately.

"I guess I'll see you around, Sora."

She paused, becoming faintly aware of his presence somewhere behind her, looming loftily overhead like an infringing shadow. She jerked around to look at him for a second; his hands were behind his head, and he, too, looked prepared to leave the town (and go address-hunting, no doubt). She stared at him as he glanced idly over the edge of the roof, uncaring and flippant.

The Heavy Blade awkwardly wrapped her arms around his midsection, around the lean torso with the belts crisscrossing it in a leather X formation. "Don't tell me you're gonna fall again," she chided him quietly, a slight flush creeping onto her tanned cheeks.

He smirked. "Only if you push me."

In the stairwell, a Wavemaster clad in variegating shades of brown and tan and gray stood in the frigid shadows. His violet eyes twinkled with something unreadable, and, head hung low, he exited, footsteps muffled by the soft structure of his shoes.

Of course Sora noticed. He would be a fool not to.

But he reveled in the position for a little while longer.


End file.
